Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans
by TyriaT
Summary: Life has led Jim to believe he needs a vacation and decides to go to New Orleans


**Title:** Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans

**Author:** Tyria

**Pairing:** Brass/OFC, small GSR

**Prompt:** New Orleans

**Spoilers:** Takes place after season 6

**Rating:** Teen

**Summary:** Jim needs a break, and decides to spend it in New Orleans.

**Disclaimer:** Nope, not mine other than Sam. Oh, the things I could do if they were…

**AN:** This was a BrassLove Summer Vacation Fic-a-thon entry. I enjoyed writing Brass, and might do it again someday. As always, a huge thanks to my wonderful beta. I really needed that push this time. And just because I ended up having one very long sentence does not give you the right to tease me about it Miss Sentences Aren't Sentences Without Being Three Lines Long.

The title comes from a Louis Armstrong song, which I think fits the story.

ooooooooooooooooo

Boston sure had it right. Everybody needed some time away from what they loved. As much as he loved being a cop, he knew he needed some more down time, especially with all that had been going on in his life; shooting a fellow officer, getting shot himself, his daughter's brief visit. Other people usually went to Vegas to really kick back and let loose. Since he lived there, that was not an option. So he picked what he felt was the next best thing without actually leaving the country: New Orleans, home of the Mardi Gras.

_From one city of sin to another_, Brass thought as he entered the streets of the French Quarter. _Well known for their jazz, their bars, and what else…_ While he was thinking, his stomach grumbled. _Ah, yes, of course, their food._

It surprised him how everyone seemed to have an opinion about what he should do in this town. Of course he wouldn't have found out anyone's opinion, if he hadn't been caught by Catherine while leaving the police station after signing his vacation paperwork. She is a great person and a wonderful mother, but she is relentless when it comes to knowing other people's business. Needless to say, Cath was more than capable of getting him to spill the news about his vacation, and then proceeded to give him some ideas about what he should do (make sure you take a graveyard tour, and you have to get a hurricane at Pat O'Brien's).

After finally getting past Catherine, he was in the clear…or so he thought. By the time he arrived home he had gotten phone calls and advice from Warrick (you can't find jazz any place better), Nick (two words for you: Hand Grenades. Trust me you'll love them), and Greg (beads, it's all about the beads on Bourbon Street). After closing his phone, ending the last conversation, he swore to himself that he was going to kill Catherine.

Jim did end up making one last phone call before he left on his trip, but that was to Gil to make sure he still had a key, and to ask him to keep an eye on things while he was gone. The weird thing was Sara answered the phone. After talking to her for a bit (make sure you don't miss out on the Audubon Zoo), she finally handed the phone over to Gil. Brass could have sworn she called Grissom "_honey_", and Jim asked why Sara was answering the phone when Gil came on the line. Grissom gave him some flimsy excuse, but Brass forgot about it and tried to get off the phone quickly when Gil started giving his own advice for the trip (the Audubon is opening an Insectarium, you have to go!).

As he walked around the Quarter, he searched for the bar Catherine told him about. When checking in to his hotel, Brass asked at the front desk to make sure the bar also sold food, because according to his internal clock, it was definitely dinner time, although technically it was almost ten. The concierge was very enthusiastic about not only the food, but also the drinks served there. It looked like Cat was right, but then again, she always had been knowledgeable about the nightlife and where to find the best bars.

Finally, he found the place and walked inside.

It was well past midnight when he decided he'd had enough, being pleasantly filled with wonderful tasting food and drink, and left Pat O'Brien's to walk the streets to his hotel. Apparently a few more people had decided to go out, because the streets had become crowded, but not impassible. About a block from the bar, someone fell backwards into him. Instinctively, he grabbed hold to keep the person from continuing to the ground. His arms securely around the person, he looked down to find a woman there: a woman with emerald green eyes and fiery red hair who was looking back at him with a big dopey grin on her face.

"Hi." She said breathily.

"Hi. Are you alright?" He began to pull her up into a standing position, but found the prospect difficult, because quite obviously she'd had one too many, and hung limp in his arms.

"Mmmm, yes."

When he finally got her standing, he realized that when he had caught her, his hand accidentally grabbed a hold of one of her breasts. He instantly removed it and held onto her waist instead, as she stumbled again trying to turn and fully face him.

"You didn't have to move it." She frowned at his changed hand placement. Latching onto one of his arms, she cupped her breast with another hand seemingly to show it off. "You don't like my breasts?"

"Yes…I mean no…I mean…" He sighed. "There is nothing I can say here that would be right."

She smirked at him. "That's ok. Plenty of other guys liked them." She moved her hand from her breast to show off the beads hanging around her neck. Brass estimated about fifteen of them, which was quite an impressive feat.

"Well, good for you then." He looked around, but no one appeared to be paying them any attention. "Did you come out here alone?"

She slowly shook her head no as she spoke. "My friends were here, but they left me." She stopped and put a hand to her forehead. "Wow. That made me dizzy. Remind me not to do that anymore."

Brass smirked. "Yeah, sure, I can do that. No more allowing you to move your head."

Her face showed her confusion as she thought his statement through. "Ok."

She stumbled again, but righted herself due to the firm grip she had on his arm. He was beginning to think he needed to get her back to wherever she was staying. "Do you know where your friends are?"

"Probably back at the hotel."

He grew angry at these people he didn't even know for abandoning this woman in the middle of the French Quarter, not exactly the safest place for anyone on their own, much less someone in her state. "Where are you staying?"

"At the same hotel."

"Do you have any idea which hotel?"

She thought for a minute with her tongue sticking out of her mouth, and then licked her lips before speaking. "A nice hotel?"

He rolled his eyes at her statement, but continued holding firmly onto the woman. "Well, how about we sit down and see if you can remember anything."

"I like that idea." She grinned again, shifted the hold she had on his arm, and put her head on his shoulder as they walked down the street looking for someplace to sit.

"You know," he began, in order to keep her attention away from wanting anymore of the beads being tossed down from the upper balconies, "before I left, my friend Greg asked me to get him a strand of beads while I'm here. Whaddaya say you let me have one, since you have so many."

She frowned. "I can't."

Confused, Brass asked, "Why not?"

"Well, you have to earn them."

"Earn them?" he questioned still looking for a good place to rest.

"Yes. I earned these by letting people see my breasts."

He looked down at her with a smile and said laughingly, "So you're saying I have to show you my breasts?"

She frowned harder and thought for a while. "No," she eventually answered. Suddenly her face lit up. "No, what you have to do is show me your penis."

At this, he stopped in his tracks and looked at her incredulously. "I have to _what_?"

She gave him a look of complete sincerity. "You have to show me your penis. It's easy. Just drop your pants and let me have a look."

"No!" he answered emphatically and began walking again.

"What? But why?" she whined.

"Call it performance anxiety, I'm not about to show everyone my penis."

Her face drooped in sorrow. "Please?"

He stopped walking again and turned to face her. "The only way you'd get me to show it to you is in the confines of a bedroom."

She cheered up instantly, "Okay," and began pulling him down the road.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking you to a bedroom."

"But you don't have a clue where your hotel is."

"No, but you know where you're staying. I'll just join you in your room. Then I can give you the beads I'm sure you deserve." She looked him over again with a hungry expression on her face.

Brass was at a loss. He could easily take this woman back to his hotel room and let loose some pent up frustration, but that wouldn't be fair to her. There was no way he could know where she was staying, so taking her to her room was obviously out of the question. There was only one option left that was acceptable to him, and, reluctantly, he walked her away from the excitement, hoping that she wouldn't become too unruly when they arrived.

ooooooooooooooooo

The scent of coffee wafting through the room broke through her senses, finally waking her from a deep slumber. She shifted in the large bed, rolling herself so that she faced the bathroom, which was where the coffee maker was located in their room. She could hear water running in the bathroom, so she knew she wasn't alone. Hopefully her friend was feeling generous today.

She groaned and called out softly after the water stopped running, "Jenn, could you get me a cup of that?" She heard movement, and then the clink of a cup being picked up. After stretching lazily under the covers, she pulled herself into a seated position against the headboard, closing her eyes as she leaned her head back.

She heard feet walking over the carpet and then the sound of the cup being set down on the nightstand beside her. Unwilling to open her eyes, she smiled and carefully reached out for the cup of life. Picking it up, she took a cautious sip, moaned, and said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," a deep voice tinged with amusement answered.

The cup stopped partway to her lips and her eyes shot open at the sound of the masculine voice that greeted her. She saw the smiling face of someone she wasn't sure she recognized. There was that strange sense of déjà vu, like she should know him from somewhere, but couldn't quite place him. She hoped there was a good reason for his presence, because he was too cute for her to never lay eyes on him again. She looked his body up and down while she took a fortifying sip. _Not bad. Not bad at all._

When her eyes returned to his face, he was wearing a smirk and quirked an eyebrow. "You need more time, or would you like me to do a turn on the catwalk?"

She laughed, almost spitting coffee all over the bedspread. Instead, she choked on the liquid.

Jim, surprised by her reaction, started over toward the bed to help, but she held up a hand stopping him in his tracks. After a few more coughs, she eeked out that she was fine.

"You sure you don't want some water."

"No." She coughed once more, and then looked at him challengingly. "What I would like is an explanation as to why you are in my room."

Jim's eyebrow rose. "Your room? Really? I think you might need to take a second look around and revise that opinion."

Confused, she did as he said. He could see the realization slowly take over her expression as she dragged the sheet further up her body. Then she looked down at her completely clothed body, and let out a sigh of relief once she realized she hadn't been stripped of anything.

"Ok, I appear to be missing out on some events that occurred last night."

Brass crossed his arms and leaned against the dresser at the front of the room. "What is the last thing you do remember?"

She leaned back against the headboard and let go of the sheet so that she could encircle the cup with both hands while taking a sip. She licked her lips, and then started, "Well, I remember my friends dragging me out to dinner. They claimed they wanted to go wild at least once while they were here, but I think they were just trying to get me out of my hotel room for a change."

She took another sip and thought some more while Jim looked on with what he hoped was an impassive face. The truth was he was still angry at her friends for leaving her alone in the state she was in.

"Eating…we went to a bar to eat…I think it was…Italian?" She thought, and then started nodding her head. "Yeah, I had linguini, and we shared a bottle of wine over dinner." Lost in thought, she took another sip. "After that, things become very blurry. I think we went to another bar…maybe. The next thing I remember for sure is waking up this morning, and finding a man in a room I thought was my own."

Jim smirked as he picked up his coffee cup. "Yes, well, you were pretty pushy about wanting to take me to my room. Something about getting my pants off."

She gasped and met his eyes while her face turned a bright red. "Please, tell me I didn't…"

"Nothing happened," he interrupted. "Although it was very hard to fight you off once we got to the room. Are you some kind of escape artist?"

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "Escape artist…?"

"Every time I thought I had your hands secured and away from my pants, suddenly there they were again, working on my zipper. I thought for a second there I'd have to cuff you to the bed or something. Luckily, as soon as you hit the bed, you were completely passed out."

She laughed. "Wow! Sorry, but I'm not used to someone being that open about their fetishes."

Jim nearly choked on his coffee when he blurted out, "Excuse me?"

"The handcuffs," she clarified. "I can't imagine why else you'd be carrying them around with you."

Laughing Brass explained, "In my line of work, it's difficult to leave them at home."

She gaped. "You work in a fetish club?!"

He looked at her like she was insane. "No, I'm a cop. I also keep my firearm close at hand when I travel." Jim snorted. "But the way you keep jumping to conclusions makes me think you're the one obsessed with fetishes."

She blushed, and then said with a small voice, "A cop?"

Jim nodded and then spoke as though he was explaining something to a small child. "Uh huh. I've got a real badge and everything."

She closed her eyes in mortification and swallowed. "I am _so_ sorry."

"Did you wanna see it?"

She put up her free hand as if to stop him. "No. No, that's alright. I should probably go now before I make things any worse." She put the cup on the bedside table and got up while straightening her clothing.

"I don't know, are you sure things could get much worse?"

Smirking, she said, "With my luck? I'm not about to chance it." As she stepped in front of him, she held out her hand. "By the way, my name is Samantha, but everyone calls me Sam."

Brass shakes her hand. "Jim…well James, but preferably Jim."

Sam laughs. "James? What are you a spy along with being a cop?"

Jim laughed, and then put a serious look on his face. "Yes. I'm Brass…James Brass." Then he smiled and winked at her.

"Uh huh…right." Sam laughed and shook her head as she turned away to find her purse. Picking it up, she started towards the door. Jim followed her as she walked out the doorway and into the hall. She turned to face him and shyly smiled. "Thanks for saving me last night."

"Just an everyday occurrence for your friendly neighborhood knight in shining armor."

Sam laughed, but then fluttered her lashes, placed her clasped hands over her heart, and gave a large sigh. "My hero."

Jim smirked and let go of the door so it would swing shut. But just before it closed, it stopped and reopened, showing Sam still on the other side keeping the door from closing.

"Hey, I was just wondering…I mean, if you aren't…well…"

Jim raised an eyebrow and slid his hands into his pockets while waiting for her to spit out what she wanted to say.

Sam took a deep breath to calm herself. "I'd like to show my thanks by buying you dinner. Would that, I mean if you're not..."

Jim put up a hand stopping her rambling. "Sounds like fun. Are we going someplace fancy, or can I bring my cuffs along?"

She smiled and shook her head. "You just never stop do you?"

Brass shrugged. "What's the fun in that?"

She looked away, still smiling and laughing. "I have a feeling I'm going to regret this." She looked at him again and said, "Let's go with casual for now, and I'll meet you in the lobby." Sam started walking away again, but looked over her shoulder to add, "Cuffs are optional." His laughter followed her as she made her way to the elevator.

They had a wonderful time at that dinner that night, and continued going to dinner together almost every night for the rest of Sam's stay. They didn't go out every night, because Sam did want to spend time with the friends she was staying with, but they did see each other every chance they could get.

She helped Jim cross off most of the list he was given; the graveyards, the zoo (Jim refused to go near the insects even if it would give him something to tease Gil about), and a couple of jazz clubs. They also added a few things of their own; a culinary tasting tour of the French Quarter, beignets at Café Du Monde, and Desire Oyster Bar and Bistro so they could look out over Bourbon Street and make comments about the people passing them by.

He teased her mercilessly about her red hair, the temper that escaped occasionally, the first night they met, and the fact that they happened to be staying in the same hotel. A fact he still found humorous especially when she reluctantly revealed it to him after he asked why they met at his hotel lobby instead of hers.

She always managed to make some comment about fetishes, handcuffs, and how he could never let a moment go by without some kind of witty remark. Overall, they had a wonderful week, and were reluctant to see it end.

Sam was leaving on a Wednesday, preferring to take the cheaper, mid-week flights, while Brass was staying through to the weekend, arriving back in Vegas a couple days before he went back on shift Monday. On the night before she flew out, Brass told her to dress up a little bit, but refused to tell her where they were going when she asked. Since he hadn't steered her wrong yet, she decided to let him have his surprise.

Jim waited anxiously in the lobby dressed in cocoa linen pants, and a navy polo shirt opened at the neck. He was facing the elevators with his hands in his pockets, almost in a casual looking pose. But his agitation was apparent when he would pull his hand out of his pocket to take a glance at his watch. He was about ready to use the courtesy phone, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he saw Sam standing behind him looking stunning in a simple little sleeveless, cabernet colored dress with black strap sandals.

"Hey. Sorry I'm late."

This time it was Brass who took his time looking her up and down. Her lips twitched remembering his comment about the catwalk. "So, I take it I pass?"

"Hmm," he said as his blue eyes met her green ones. "It was worth the wait." She laughed at the fact that he was distracted as he took her arm and led her outside to the rental car they had been using all week. "Definitely worth the wait," he said under his breath as he rounded the car after helping her sit inside.

Jim pulled the car in front of Broussard's and handed the keys over to the valet. He was a little disappointed when he looked at the front of the restaurant, because the brick building with the metal overhang they were standing in front of seemed rather small. He just hoped the courtyard was as good as he was promised.

They walked in, he gave his name at the desk, and then he went into the lounge to get them both a glass of white wine from the bar as they waited for their table. He had just given Sam her glass when they were notified that their table was ready.

A brief walk through a small portion of the dining room led them into the large, open and lush courtyard. Brass was glad to see the trust he put in the hands of the concierge was not misplaced. Trees and plants covered three sides of the courtyard. The other side was a brick wall with several large windows and archways which allowed them to see into another dining room. Soft, colorful lighting illuminated the outer edge of the courtyard, while small table lamps gave off a subtle glow on the tables in the center.

It was to one of the center tables that they were led. The host pulled Sam's chair out, and they both sat, giving their eyes time to adjust to the dim light while the host gave their waiter's name and briefly mentioned the specials. Sam allowed her eyes to wander until they fell on Jim's face.

He looked curiously at her with one brow raised. She smiled softly back at him. "This place is beautiful. How did you ever find it?"

Jim returned her smile and chuckled. "A man's gotta have some secrets, otherwise he won't be as interesting anymore."

She laughed. "I doubt you'll ever cease to be interesting, Jim. Especially with that wit of yours."

He raised his glass in reply and she joined him, their glasses giving a quiet 'clink' as they touched briefly. The meal was enjoyable and delicious. Sam ordered a bouillabaisse containing many types of seafood and continued with another glass of the Chardonnay Jim ordered from the bar. Brass chose a creole porkchop but deferred to Sam's opinion on which wine he should enjoy. She selected a Pinot Noir, and, after the waiter left for the kitchen, Sam began to tease him about having the woman order for the man. To which he readily admitted not knowing very much about wine, and then claimed to be a new-age man, ready and willing to let the woman take charge. She laughed and took note of that, hoping to use that against him later.

They walked out of the restaurant arm in arm, pleasantly stuffed, and ready for more.

"Where to next?" Sam questioned as Jim slid into the car and started the engine.

"How about some music?"

She smiled and nodded. "I can dig it."

Jim laughed at her comment and motored uptown to the Maple Leaf Bar. Since they had an early dinner, the place was full, but not completely crowded. The outside looked really cheap, but once inside, the music more than made up for the building. Luckily, it was a Tuesday, which meant the Rebirth Brass Band was performing, one of _the_ must see groups in New Orleans, or so the concierge told him.

The music was upbeat, the place was cozy (for now), and the drinks were cheap but good. There were college students, older couples…people from almost all walks of life, tapping their feet and dancing to the beat.

When it started getting difficult to move, Jim leaned over and talked in her ear over the music. "You willing to blow this popsicle stand?"

Sam leaned into him further and placed her lips close to his ear. "I'm ready if you are." He backed away in order to look at her. Sam's face seemed full of innocence, but there was a gleam in her eye that made him almost question her statement…almost. Instead, he took her hand, and led the way out of the bar, almost clairvoyant in the way he was able to maneuver through the crowd. They truly weren't out of the thick of things until about a block away from the bar, the overflow taking up residence outside the bar and dancing in the street.

Jim looked back at the crowd filling the road. "Man, am I glad I parked a couple blocks away."

Once in the car, on the road back to their hotel, Sam began humming some of the music they just heard in the bar. Jim was bolstered by this reaction into making one more suggestion. "Well, not to sound clichéd, but the night is still young, how about coffee or something?"

"While I'm sure the 'or something' could be interesting, coffee sounds about perfect right now."

He chuckled at her answer, knowing he deserved to be snarked, especially with as much as he gave out through the entire week, if he was honest with himself. He parked the car, and they walked over to a cute little shop that was clearly newer than the rest of the buildings surrounding it. Upon entry, the aroma of chocolate and other assorted sweets, along with a hint of coffee, invaded their senses.

Jim leaned over her shoulder and whispered. "So, still not interested in the 'or something'?"

"Mmmm, I think I've been tempted over to the dark side," Sam joked as she stepped in front of a display of handmade sweets featuring the more bitter chocolate.

"Does this mean I'll have to find some blue milk to go with them?" he joked.

Sam looked over her shoulder at him in utter confusion, but Jim just waved her off, telling her to forget his comment. They ended up ordering an assortment of chocolates, dark and milk, with two cups of coffee. Since Jim had paid for both the dinner and the cover charge to allow them into the bar, Sam insisted on at least paying for something. Jim shrugged, took his coffee and the sweets, and found a table.

Slowly they ate, savoring not only the wonderfully crafted desserts and the well-blended coffee, but also the company of the other. But all too soon, the sweets were gone, the coffee drank, and the wine began to have its effect. The satisfied duo drove back to the hotel and made their way to the elevators.

She knew Jim was going to try to insist on escorting her 'home', so Sam spoke up as they waited to ride up. "Jim, I had a wonderful time, but I think the elevator is as far as you need to go. I have a flight to get ready for tomorrow."

Jim glanced over, but turned his attention back to the numbers ascending and descending over the tops of the elevators. "As you wish."

She smiled softly at his small nod to her favorite movie, a topic which had come up very early on in their time spent together. They had also exchanged contact information about midway through the time they spent together, knowing they would want to stay connected. They rode up to her floor in a comfortable silence, each lost in thoughts about the night and their enjoyment in the presence of the other. Suddenly, the elevator dinged signaling its arrival at Sam's floor.

She exited and turned to Brass. "Thank you again for a beautiful night. Make sure you look me up if you're ever in San Francisco."

"You're welcome. And if you're ever in Vegas…"

Sam interrupted, "I'll give you a call."

They stood there just smiling at each other until the elevator got ready to leave the floor.

"Wait!" He heard as the doors were about to close. An arm poked through the small opening, and the doors slid apart. "I forgot." Sam reached into her purse and pulled out a strand of beads. "These are for you," and then she pulled out another strand, "and these are for your friend. This way you can tell him a woman gave them to you."

A soft smile came across his lips, but it turned quickly into a devilish smirk. "I thought I had to earn these before I could get any."

She blushed. "Putting up with me during your vacation was enough."

Jim smiled. "Just so you know, putting up with you wasn't a hardship. But thank you."

He reached out and took the beads. Their hands lightly touched, but it was enough contact to make Jim more aware of the woman standing within reach. He was tempted to try to convince Sam to take him to her room, but he firmly squashed that idea. Other than the time she propositioned him when she was drunk, and the morning after when she looked him over, she hadn't really shown any signs that she was interested in something more with him. The banter was fun, but he wasn't sure if he would go so far as to call it flirting. Just to be safe, Jim decided to do nothing. He let the hand holding the beads fall to his side, and held up his other hand to wave goodbye while the elevator dinged, signaling that it was about to leave again.

Once more, doors he thought were going to close, opened again. But this time, instead of standing on the other side, Sam rushed through the elevator doors and kissed him, her momentum pushing him back until he was forced against the far wall of the elevator.

Shock kept him passive for a couple seconds, but, quickly, his instincts took over, and he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her back, while her hands framed his face. Their lips broke apart so that Jim could kiss his way along her jaw and up to her ear. Sam moaned quietly and tilted her head, providing him access.

Once at her ear, he whispered, "I thought I was just taking you to your floor."

"Change of plans," she breathed, "We'll get it on the way back down."

He chuckled and pulled back to take in the flushed skin of her face. "Mmmm, I like going down."

She gave a little whimper, and then pulled him back to her for another kiss. This time tongues joined lips and they each tasted the chocolate and coffee the other enjoyed earlier. Instead of savoring the flavors of the desserts as before, they savored the flavors of each other, enhanced by those sweets.

They were oblivious when the elevator stopped on Brass's floor, and paid no mind to the fact it was now on its trek back down, only breaking from time to time for air. It wasn't until someone repeatedly cleared his throat that they realized they made it back down to the lobby floor. Embarrassed at getting caught like a couple of teenagers, Sam buried her reddened face into Jim's throat. Jim looked at the couple waiting to enter, and shrugged his shoulders. The older couple looked disapprovingly at them, but entered the elevator anyway.

Brass pushed the button for 6, relieved at the fact that the older couple must be staying on 3, as that was the only other button illuminated. Complete silence descended over the elevator until the third floor was reached. After the doors closed on the other couple, Jim started laughing so hard, he was shaking. He felt air rushing along his neck, causing him to realize, Sam had join him in his laughter. Jim's face hurt and Sam had tears in her eyes by the time they were able to get themselves under control, and were sufficiently calm by the time the elevator stopped on Sam's floor.

Jim pushed Sam slightly away from him. "Should we try this again?"

At that she started giggling again, but backed them up enough to be able to hold the doors open. "Yeah, I think I've had enough for now." She licked her lips and smiled.

Unable to stop himself, Jim leaned in once again and kissed her softly. His sad eyes met hers as he stepped back away from the doors. "Have a safe flight home."

Sam gave him a strained smile. "Thanks. You enjoy the rest of your vacation."

He gave her a half-smile of his own. This time nothing stopped the doors from closing, and the elevator carried Jim away to his floor.

Jim enjoyed the few days he had left. He saw more of the city and the things they were doing to recover not only the businesses, but the housing as well. At times he would stop, finding something that caught his interest, and he would go to make an aside before realizing she wasn't there. For the first time in a long time, he found himself wishing for her presence beside him. And, although he was having a good time, he realized how much more enjoyable an experience could be when it was shared with another.

ooooooooooooooooooo

His flight home was uneventful, and he found his car in the airport lot just as he left it. Knowing Gil was off today, Jim decided to drive over to his townhouse to make sure there were no problems with his place while he was gone. It was on his way home from the airport anyway, so if Gil wasn't home, it wouldn't be a wasted trip. As Brass pulled onto his street, he noticed Gil's car parked out front. Apparently luck was with him today.

Jim walked up to the door and raised his hand to knock, but before he had even touched the wood, the door swung open. When recognition hit, both people went wide eyed and dropped their mouths open in shock. A voice calling out from inside managed to bring one person back to earth.

"Since you're up," Grissom called out, "would you mind getting the newspaper, dear?"

A huge grin slowly worked its way onto Jim's face, while he held in the laughter. "Tell your '_dear'_ that I'll call him later. You kids enjoy your day off." He winked at Sara and left her standing still frozen on the doorstep.

Whistling, he entered his car. The vacation ended up being exactly what he needed to relax, and now he had a highly entertaining phone call to make later, along with plenty of innuendo to drop during work when in the presence of a certain pair of CSIs. Life just couldn't get any better.


End file.
